


There's Always Another Summer

by elrosa



Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Continuation, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21591919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrosa/pseuds/elrosa
Summary: It all started on La Huerta, and it all ended here—or so it seemed. After Taylor used her connection to Vaanu to help Rourke, the whole world had been changed, and the change was not for the better. Finding her way in the dystopian empire, she tries to reconnect with her friends, build a relationship with her newfound family, find the love she had lost… and change the fate of an entire planet once again.
Relationships: Craig Hsiao/Zahra Namazi, Jake McKenzie & Main Character (Endless Summer)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. All Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts after the events of Rourke’s ending, and it’s focusing on friendships and adventure rather than romance. It’s still based on my playthrough, where Taylor married Jake, so if you don’t like these two together, I’m sorry. If you do, I’m sorry.
> 
> Some parts were written in my first language and translated into English. I tried my best to find and fix any mistakes that happened in the process (and believe me, I won’t do it again, it’s twice the job), but if you see something I missed, feel free to tell me (that’s how I learn!). All mistakes are mine and mine alone. All characters (sadly) belong to Pixelberry. I’m just borrowing them for... a while.

> _It’s all gone wrong_  
>  _Heaven hold us_  
>  _Where do we go_  
>  _When it’s all over?_  
>  [— Raign](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DaQjXNyC0liA&t=NjRhNzQxZDdmZWUwOTE5NmZkYzY3NzNlNWIyY2Y2ZDhiNTI1ZjE5Nyw1dkl5S3NVRA%3D%3D&b=t%3A_sBVCgAe8_gST2X-TAMO_w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fendlessly-searching-for-you.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189341790322%2Ftheres-always-another-summer&m=1)

To say things were bad, was to say nothing at all. It didn’t seem that way at first. Sure, the world would have been better without Rourke calling himself the emperor, but on the outside, things looked good. The sun was still shining, the sky was still blue, people still lived, loved, laughed. You couldn’t see something was wrong until you started digging. One day you could hear your neighbor murmuring some angry words at the government; the next, everyone pretended they never existed. If you knew who to ask, you could learn some rumors about friends-of-my-second-cousin who went into service and never came back. Or even darker stories about those who did—and weren’t the same people anymore.

And it was all Taylor’s fault.

There wasn’t a day when she didn’t regret her decision. Time after time, Rourke proved they shouldn’t trust him, and she still took his offer. What little powers she had, she gave up for a promise of a better life. All because Jake asked. That night was forever ago, but the look on his face kept haunting her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his blue eyes looking at her pleadingly, cheeks wet with tears— _please, it would mean everything to me_. He hated the guy’s guts and still begged her to go with his plan. She could, and should have, said no. She didn’t.

Not that there was much she could do, anyway. Yes, agreeing to Rourke’s plan wasn’t their only option. They could stay on the island and watch the world burn, or—she felt a pang of guilt—she could save them all by sacrificing herself. It would be the right thing to do, one life exchanged for billions of others. Movie heroes wouldn’t hesitate. Hell, even Mike didn’t, just moments earlier. Maybe if she was a better person…? No! No, one thing for sure, she wasn’t a selfish monster—at least that’s what she kept telling herself. It was just hard to believe it anymore.

“Nevermind,” she thought, shaking her head. What’s been done has been done, and thinking about what could have been was a waste of time. The world was full of people who signed up without reading the fine print, Taylor wasn’t the first, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last one. And as much as she hated to admit it, Rourke kept his end of the deal—kind of. Her friends might not remember her, but at least they were safe. Jake got Mike back, and they were both alive, just far from being fine. And she… she got the family she always wanted.

A brief smile crossed Taylor’s lips. Family. It was surprising, but Rourke did a great job picking her parents. They seemed like one of the good ones, and she sometimes wondered who they _really_ were. Did he know them before it all happened? Were they a figment of his imagination that came true? Either way, it was easy to believe they were related. She somehow seemed to have both of her parents’ qualities combined; her father’s easygoing attitude and (a bit too short) temper, her mother’s charm, wit, and overprotectiveness. Even their appearance was on point, from the messy hair of her father to her mother’s calm smile. There were photos of their three together, keepsake boxes, scrapbooks, and the new memories of a happy childhood.

It was a beautiful picture, indeed. Only when the first excitement faded away, Taylor realized there was hardly anything more than that. There was no meaning and no depth behind the picture. A psychopath like Rourke wouldn’t know the difference, but she did. The most important things—love, affection, trust—were missing. No matter how hard she tried, how badly she wanted to believe it was all real, it didn’t work. Finally, one day, she snapped and tried to tell her parents the truth. Okay, she had to admit, maybe the Sunday dinner wasn’t the best time to do it—but there would never be a good time for it anyway. It didn’t go too well, and now that she thought about it, she couldn’t tell what she expected. Even Diego didn’t believe her story, why would they be different?

“Are you still with me, Taylor?”

She blinked a few times. Where was she? Ah, yes, the weekly therapy session. The argument caused her parents to show the first real emotion in months: fear. It wasn’t that surprising. The fact they weren’t afraid _of_ her, but _for_ her, was. Maybe they did care, after all. They didn’t report her to the thought police, or whatever name Rourke gave to his force; they brought a professional who was supposed to help.

“I’m sorry. I—it’s hard for me to talk about it.” God, when did she learn to lie like that? Ever since she realized her therapist was one of the people who loved the sound of their own voice, she spent their sessions daydreaming about one thing or another. The chatter was merely background noise, and all she did was coming up with a generic response when it stopped. No wonder the therapy wasn’t working at all.

“Ah, that’s understandable.” The therapist shot what was probably supposed to be an encouraging smile, but actually reminded Taylor about a giant barracuda. “As I said, the brain can create false memories, especially after traumatic events. It tries to protect you and replaces the painful memory with a fake one. It could be anything. Something from a book you have read, or a movie—”

 _Oh, if only you knew,_ Taylor smiled bleakly at the round-faced woman. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if it was just a book or a movie, or even something entirely made up by her imagination. Yes, her brain made up things to fill the void, only it wasn’t what they all thought. It made up all things that made her human. How was she supposed to live with that? She dropped her head and stared at her worn-out shoes when a sudden realization hit her like a hammer. Hell, her brain made up her own name. From a freaking sneaker label. How come she didn’t see it earlier?

_Suddenly, she was ripped out of the office, hurtling through space and time, and when she opened her eyes, all she could see was red. She doubled over in pain, touching her forehead to her knees. She felt something sticky, and to her horror, realized it was blood. It was in her eyes, on her hands, her legs, the warm sand, everywhere—_

_“What’s your name?” She heard a faint whisper, and a weak hand grabbed her arm._

_I can’t remember! She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I don’t know. My name? Do I have one? I don’t think so. Should I? She lowered her head again, trying to stop it from spinning, and then she saw it. Yes. Might as well be it. Chuck doesn’t seem like a girl’s name, but—_

_“Taylor. My name’s Taylor.”_

_“I’m—” the hand she was holding went limp, and she knew it was over. Whoever it was, they were gone, and she didn’t even get to know their name. Gone, just like that. She looked around and realized they were all dead. Twelve young people, with their whole lives ahead of them, were now gone for good._

_She was on her own._

Taylor gasped for air, and the sudden pain in her chest brought her back to reality. A small drop of blood fell onto her shoes, and she felt sick. It was just a flashback, a memory of a life that wasn’t even entirely her own—but it was too much. She pushed the chair, murmured an apology, and ran from the office. Air. She needed some air, stat, or else she’ll throw up. Everything seemed to blur in a hurry—

“Hey, watch out!”

“Oof! I’m so sorry!” Taylor steadied herself against the wall and took a deep breath. She recognized the voice, red hair, blue eyes, even the white shirt was the same. “I didn’t see you. Really sorry about that. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My coffee, that’s another story. What—” The redhead gasped. “Oh, God. You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing. A little bloody nose, that’s all. I’m sorry about your coffee, Quinn.”

“Wait.” The redhead drew her brows together. “How did you know my name? Have we met?”

“Yeah. The first day of uni, by the fountain, remember me? I didn’t make the best first impression, I’m afraid.” Taylor chuckled, relieved. “And now I completely blew the second one. Why don’t we go to the cafe across the street and I’ll make it up to you. You know, third time’s the charm? Please?”

Quinn’s face fell. “I can’t. I have an appointment with Dr. Andrews.”

“I just left her office, and let me tell you, she sucks.” Taylor winced. “Big time. Please? I won’t tell anyone. And if you want to talk, I’m a good listener.”

“Ah, to hell with it. After you!” Quinn laughed, and they ran down the hallway, giggling like two fifth-graders skipping classes. They were already at the door when she stopped and looked over her shoulder with a frown. “Crap! She saw us.”

“Who?”

“My friend. Michelle. She’s an intern here.”

Taylor turned to look at another familiar face. With her white coat and hair tied into a high ponytail, Michelle looked almost like her older counterpart from Vaanu’s ember of hope. _At least one of us is making her dreams come true_ , she thought with a smile. “Don’t worry. This one’s on me. If she gives you any trouble, you know who to blame!”

She was right about the third time being better than the previous two. They had one coffee, then another one, a few cupcakes, talked, laughed… almost as if they knew each other their whole lives.

“There you are! Why don’t you answer my calls?” Diego dropped into the chair and looked at them with reproach. “I finally got the perfect title! What do you think about _Endless Summer_ —”

“Hello to you, too!” Taylor sneered and gestured across the table. “Diego, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is Diego. He’s my best friend. And we… kinda write a book together.”

“A graphic novel, actually.” He protested. “And it’s Taylor’s idea, only she says she couldn’t put two words together even if she tried. Now, I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I’m pretty good at it.”

“Yeah, only we don’t know anyone who can draw.”

“Actually… I can,” Quinn smiled broadly. “Well, I mostly paint, but I’m always up for a challenge. I can show you a few of my works… if you want me to?”

Taylor shared a look with Diego, and they both nodded vigorously. She pulled a sketchbook out of her backpack and handed it to them, blush rising up on her cheeks.

“I never showed this to anyone. Please don’t laugh. It’s just… I’m having these strange dreams, and I don’t want to forget them…”

They both stared at a picture of an impossibly enormous tree rising into the sky. There was a whole city carved into its side. Little huts perched on the branches and the wooden bridges hung between them, held together by vines. Diego inhaled sharply, and Taylor felt tears welling up in her eyes. Quinn _remembered_. The memories were buried deep within her, but they were _there_.

“Quinn…” She squeezed her hand gently. “Do you know what this is?”

“No. As I said, it’s from a dream. I can’t remember the name… I thought it was Yggdrasil, you know, the Norse tree of life? But it’s not that. It’s something similar, but when I wake up, I can’t remember it anymore.”

“Elyystel.” Diego recovered his voice. “Taylor, that’s gotta be the tree city you told me about. Quinn, you’re a genius. Welcome on board!”


	2. The More Things Change

_When everything you love goes bad  
_ _You love until they love you back_  
— [The Fray](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D8zPBhOUXYRM&t=OGE2NTU2MWU4MDNhZmFmMWY2MWRlZjgxMWNhNzM2ZjM0NDVlOWY5MixvYk51SFl5Mg%3D%3D&b=t%3A_sBVCgAe8_gST2X-TAMO_w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fendlessly-searching-for-you.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F189629221059%2Ftheres-always-another-summer&m=1)

“Hello, sleepyhead!” Someone poked Taylor’s shoulder, and she woke up with a loud groan. “I thought you were going to study?” 

“I am!” She cried out in protest, pulling out a textbook from under her cheek and wiping a little bit of slobber from the cover. It was true. With the finals coming up, it seemed she did nothing else but study, only there was still so much she didn’t know yet! If she could get a dollar for every high-school-level question she drew a blank on, she wouldn’t have to work a day in her life. Too bad all she got were strange looks and giggles. She wondered if Rourke did it on purpose. Who was she kidding, he definitely did. Well, it only proved he considered her a worthy opponent. You don’t fight dirty with someone below your level. Why bother? And it was a good thing, too. It would only make her vengeance all the sweeter.

But, sadly, the day won’t be today. She stifled a yawn and poured another cup of coffee. Just as she grabbed a book from the stack, her phone lit up with a message from Quinn.

“Are you coming to the football game tonight?”

“I can’t. I need to study.” 

“Come on! You need some fun. Please?”

Taylor smiled. Quinn was right, it was time for a break. Sipping her coffee, she stole a glance at Zahra slouched on a sofa. With loud music blasting from her headphones, her roommate seemed to ignore everything but the soft tap-tap-tap of the keyboard. As if feeling her gaze, she raised her head, and Taylor felt a chill. All these months, all her efforts—and Zahra’s glare was still as ice-cold as when they first met. 

“Going somewhere?” 

“Yeah. There is a football match tonight.” Taylor hesitated a little before adding, “Wanna come?” 

“Sure. Why the hell not. It’s not like I have anything important to do.” 

She brushed off the snide remark. One thing for sure: where Zahra was concerned, it was always a better choice to bit her tongue and say nothing. She turned away with a shrug, but she heard the laptop slammed shut, and her roommate joined her. It was as suspicious as it was surprising, and Taylor was set to solve the mystery.

It wouldn’t be as easy as she thought, she realized, when every time she tried to start a conversation, Zahra brushed her off and kept her eyes fixed sternly on the field. Who would have known she was such a football fan? Unless… Taylor followed her gaze and smiled. Of course. The more things change, the more they stay the same. How come she didn’t think about it earlier? Zahra couldn’t care less about the game—she was there to see a player. 

The first quarter ended, and she felt anxious to do something. God, where’s Diego when you need him? He was the perfect wingman, and she didn’t even know where to start. Her heart pounded so fast it almost fell out of her chest. What if she says the wrong thing and ruins it? 

“So… I’ve heard he’s a gamer, too,” she blurted out, turning to face her roommate. 

“Who?” Zahra looked at her, perplexed. 

“Craig. Sixty-eight. Big guy, black hair?”

“Shut up.” 

“Oh, come on. I saw the way you look at him.”

“Shut up, or I’ll tell everyone about the photo you have under your pillow!” Zahra eyed her threateningly. 

“You snooped in my things?!” Taylor stared at her in disbelief.

“You keep a photo under your pillow?” Quinn slipped between them with a wide grin on her face. “Who is it?”

“Nobody!”

“Yeah, right.” Zahra winked at her. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.

Taylor felt her cheeks growing hot and turned to the empty football field in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment. She really, _really_ missed Jake, and this photo—actually, it was a wanted poster she tore out of newspaper—was the only thing she had of him. She spent way too many nights looking at it, whispering how badly she needed him by her side, promising she would find him. It was stupid, she knew. He couldn’t answer. Hell, her husband couldn’t remember her, just like anyone else. Even if they found each other, there was no telling if he would fall for her again. But right now, hope was all she had, and she wasn’t going to give it up.

“Taylor, hello?” Quinn’s voice brought her back to reality. “Are you still with us?” 

“Sorry. I zoned out. What is it?” 

“There is a party at the sorority house tonight. Michelle asked me to invite you. What do you think?” She turned to Zahra with a sly wink. “You’re Taylor’s roommate, right? You should come, too. The whole football team will be there.”

Zahra winced. “Depends. Is booze on the menu?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s a sorority party, right?”

“Count me in.”

“Guess this means I’m coming, too.” Taylor sighed. “I could _really_ use a drink right now.”

***

Quinn pushed past the crowd like an icebreaker, elbowing everyone out of her path. Who would guess a petite person like her could be so feisty? Taylor chuckled, stealing an untouched cup of beer from a surly guy in a football jersey. He shouted something offensive at her, but when she blew him a kiss of apology, his face turned scarlet. If only everything was that simple, she sighed. 

“Michelle! There you are!” Quinn hugged a blonde beauty. “Have you met Taylor?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Michelle looked her up and down, giving an appraising nod. “But Quinn talks about you so much, I feel like we’re friends already, you know? Great hair, by the way. Just, uh…” She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “Next time you want to do your eyebrows, please call me, okay?”

“Huh? Why? What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”

Michelle clapped her back and giggled. “Sorry, I’ve got to mingle. See you two later! Have fun!”

“Quinn, is there _really_ something wrong—”

“It was an excellent game tonight, don’t you think?” Quinn answered innocently.

“You’re changing the subject, aren’t you?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“That bad?”

“Uh-huh.” 

Great. Absolutely great. Taylor stared at the empty cup and sighed. “I think I need a refill. Or two. Maybe ten. Speaking of which… have you seen Zahra?”

“No, but I have a pretty good idea where we could find her.” She stood on tiptoes, craning her neck. “Yup, just like I thought. She’s at the bar. And I don’t think she needs our help, look.” 

Taylor followed the direction Quinn pointed. No, Zahra definitely didn’t need their help; worse, she would probably kill them if they tried. They couldn’t hear her over the loud music, but the body language was clear—she was _flirting_. In her own, slightly unconventional way, but flirting nonetheless. And, judging by the dreamy look on Craig’s face, the attraction was mutual. 

Quinn gasped mid-laugh, and a violent cough forced her to double over in pain. No, no, no. Not now, not yet! Taylor cursed, rushing to her aid.

“You need some air. Let me get you outside.” She wrapped her arm around Quinn’s slim waist and felt her friend leaning in for support. “Here. Better?” She asked and immediately scoffed at herself. _Of course she’s not better, you idiot. Going out won’t help her. And it’s all your fault._

“There’s something I should— _want_ to—” Quinn shook her head as another coughing fit cut her off, and brushed a tear off her cheek. “The thing is, I’m… I’m dying. But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. I know,” Taylor whispered, pulling Quinn in for a hug. Hot tears soaked her shirt, but she couldn’t care less. Right now, there was nothing she could do to save her friend. Simply being there for her would never feel enough. _I’ll never forgive you this, you sick bastard!_ She hoped Rourke could somehow hear her thoughts. The truth was, she wasn’t going to forgive herself, either. Eight months passed without bringing her closer to the solution or even a plan to find one. How much time do they have left? What if it was too late? What if—?

“Too bad we don’t have the Island’s Heart, it would come in handy. Do you know where to find one?” Quinn laughed, seeing the shock on Taylor’s face, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, it was a bad joke. Sorry. I’m tired. Can you walk me home?”

“Sure.”

***

Taylor checked her watch. The hour was still young, but the party mood was already gone. Besides, after pulling several all-nighters in a row, she could almost hear the bed calling out her name from three blocks away.

Fishing the key out of her pocket, she tried to unlock the door when she realized something wasn’t right. It wasn’t locked, and she could swear it was. Knowing Zahra, she probably double-checked. And they sure as hell didn’t leave the lights on. A million possibilities flooded her mind. Who could it be? Burglar? Murderer? _Rourke_?

“GET OUT!” Two voices, male and female, cried in unison, and she ran back to the hallway, laughing hysterically. Now, _that_ was fast. She wasn’t that big on waiting too long herself, but these two brought it to the next level. Whatever. It wasn’t her place to judge. But, of all the places Zahra and Craig could choose, why did it have to be the sofa? No amount of bleach could make her sit there ever again. And how was she supposed to push the image out of her mind…?

“And his tattoo is just as bad as I thought,” Taylor laughed, settling on a nearby bench. She didn’t have to wait long before she noticed Craig sneaking out of the building. The evident embarrassment on his face sparked a pang of guilt in her chest. Why was she always acting without thinking first?! She sighed, looking up at the window, and noticed Zahra’s silhouette, standing with arms across her chest and chin raised in defiance. Crap. Confronting her was the last thing she wanted, but it seemed she had little choice. Spending the night outside was definitely not an option.

She peered through the door, hoping against the odds that her roommate was asleep, but the door flew out of her hand. They stood face to face, staring at each other in uncomfortable silence.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll—” Zahra hissed, but her eyes smiled, and Taylor let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Relax,” she shrugged. “Your bad taste is your problem, not mine.”

“Ouch. Sick burn,” Zahra shoved her arm playfully and laughed. That went better than expected. Even on the island—or maybe especially there—Taylor never saw Zahra being as happy as she was now. Better late than never, she thought, returning her smile.

Zahra reached into a drawer to take out something from her not-so-secret booze stash, and her face fell. The bottle in her hand was empty. Taylor smiled triumphantly. Apparently, there was a secret her nosy roommate didn’t find out yet.

“Do you want a—nevermind, you’re welcome,” she snickered when Zahra’s eager hand snatched the liquor bottle from her. They took rounds sipping from it without sharing as much as one look or one word, but somehow the silence felt comfortable.

“I thought you were a good girl, you know?” Zahra downed the rest of the drink in big one gulp.

“What makes you think I’m not?” 

“Come on. First, you’re crushing on a fugitive, then this?” She pointed to the now empty bottle. “It has minor in possession written all over it.”

Taylor shrugged. Zahra was right. Technically, neither of them was twenty-one yet, but it was too easy to forget. People were supposed to get older, not become stuck in endless time loops, or go back in time like it was nothing. Once you were proclaimed an adult, you stayed one for the rest of your life. It sucked, but at least it was one of the unbreakable rules of the universe. Maybe even rule number one. Well, at least up until now.

Suddenly, Zahra jumped up to her feet and wobbled for a good few seconds before jabbing her finger right into Taylor’s chest. “You! You know what? I actually _like_ you.”

“O-okay?”

“It’s not okay! I don’t even want to! I don’t like _anyone_!” She whined. “You’re so… so… you’re not even trying to get me to like you!” 

_Like hell I’m not,_ Taylor smiled sheepishly, but Zahra continued.

“Just do something about it!” Her foot tangled into the carpet, and she staggered backward. If Taylor didn’t break her fall, she would almost certainly smash her head on the table. “See? This is what I’m talking about. Ugh. Why is the floor so nice and cold? I think I’m gonna stay here, tankyou—”

“How much did you drink?”

“Not nearly enough! Gotta sleep. G’night.”

Zahra yawned and curled on the floor, passing out as soon as her eyes closed. Taylor tried to wake her up, but to no avail. With a loud grunt, she grabbed her by the arms and dragged her to the bed. It was harder than one might expect from the movies. Taylor sighed, wiping the sweat from her forehead, and looked around Zahra’s room, searching for a blanket. When she picked up the bundle from a chair, something dropped on her foot. Crap. It was probably Zahra’s calendar. Papers scattered around the floor, and she bent down to pick it all up. Pizza coupons, gaming pub flyer, exam schedule, and… she gasped, looking at her own photo. She turned it around and stared at the words written in neat round handwriting that definitely wasn’t Zahra’s.

“Keep an eye on her.”


End file.
